


like dumplings, so sweet

by takumicore



Category: JO1 (Japan Band)
Genre: Fluff, Late night snack runs, M/M, a few anime references, going grocery shopping together as a love language, no beta in this household we alpha like men, their living situation confuses the hell out of me so i freestyled, yearning so palpable you could cut it like cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumicore/pseuds/takumicore
Summary: the fact that there’ssomethinggoing on between him and syoya is basically an open secret within the group, which is probably why sho and naoto don’t bat an eyelid when they ask if they can go biking together in the evenings.
Relationships: Kimata Syoya/Tsurubo Shion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	like dumplings, so sweet

the fact that there’s  _ something _ going on between him and syoya is basically an open secret within the group, which is probably why sho and naoto don’t bat an eyelid when they ask if they can go biking together in the evenings. if anything, they get a quick crash course in road safety, what to do if they get lost (their company really had to get them an apartment block in the middle of  _ nowhere _ ), given helmets and kicked out to go on their merry way.

(another potential reason is that they just really wanted to get into the bottle of whiskey sho ordered, but hey, who’s he to judge?)

it becomes their thing – one of many, actually – so when syoya shows up at his door, saying he wants to take a ride to the convenience store for snacks before their scheduled anime marathon, shion slips on a hoodie and soon after they’re speeding downhill. there’s something freeing about it; summer is at its tail end, and though the midday heat is oppressive and suffocating, it’s fun to race against the chilly evening breeze just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

and if the two of them are purposely singing one of their unreleased tracks off-key until right before the last turn to the convenience store, there’s no one else around to hear them anyway.

“any cravings today?” shion asks, putting the lock on both of their bikes. rarely do they see other people in this area, but considering the trek it would take to get back to their dorms, they’re better safe than sorry.

“dumplings,” syoya replies curtly, eyes flitting towards the hanged-up posters with sale offers. anyone else would probably be thrown off, but after so much time together, shion feels like syoya’s general weirdness has rubbed off on him. or maybe his quirks have rubbed off on syoya? sometimes it’s difficult to see where one of them ends and the other begins.

“you want to _cook_ before our anime night?”

“hey, i _can_ cook, unlike a certain someone-”

“you added sugar instead of salt to the meat yesterday,”

“...by accident!”

syoya’s still puffing his cheeks in mock-anger when shion ushers him into the store. as much as he’s endeared (he is, incredibly, he’s just not sure how to express it without making dying whale noises), he doesn’t want to be eaten alive by mosquitoes, so he’d rather get this snack run over with. they greet the old man who’s doing crosswords behind the counter and shion grabs a basket, heading to the snack aisle.

“anyway, as i was saying,” syoya throws in a box of pocky, cheese snacks, and some country ma’am chocolate chip cookies, “i was thinking of getting some frozen ones today, but i could probably try making them from scratch on our next day off. wanna help?”

“that’s assuming naoto-san will let me into the kitchen again,” shion snickers, remembering their manager’s tired expression when he realised their food processor kicked the metaphorical bucket, “but sure.”

he’d probably get bullied into it anyway, and considering the bright smile syoya gives him, he wouldn’t even resist it.

“i’ll sneak you into the kitchen in my pocket, naoto-san won’t know what hit him. oh, want string cheese? i heard the garlic flavour is good.”

in his _pocket_. shion’s heart twinges. despite him being significantly taller and broader, there’s something sweet about syoya insisting on shion being basically chihuahua-sized ever since he first showed off photos of his family dog. something about pets and owners looking alike, syoya’d said.

they keep the back and forth banter while they shuffle to the modest frozen section of the store. the basket’s getting heavy with snacks and drinks, so shion takes the chance to crouch down and lean against one of the freezer doors while syoya searches for dumplings.

or, at least attempts to, as he shuts the freezer with a defeated sigh a few moments later.

“are they out?”

“i can’t find the beef ones,” he shouldn’t find the whiny tilt in syoya’s voice cute, but it is, and it’s almost maddening how effortlessly it comes out. “...and it’s cold.”

ah.

the syoya code.

shion probably should’ve realised this would happen when he noticed syoya went out in just a short-sleeved shirt, insisting that it’s fine, it’s just a quick trip. he feigns a dramatic sigh as he unzips his hoodie and chucks it at syoya’s head, laughing when the older sputters in surprise but puts it on anyway.

(he ignores how content syoya looks in it, and how the sleeves almost completely cover his hands, and also the general boyfriend-ness of this entire situation. it’s fine. he can survive this.)

“beef, right?” it’s more of idle talk than an actual question, and he starts browsing the shelves before syoya even hums in agreement. most are pork, or chicken, maybe the occasional seafood, and shion almost thinks they really are out of beef dumplings until he finds a few spare packs on the highest shelf. “got it!”

“it was up _there_? how was i supposed to see?”

“maybe if you weren’t so sho– _oi_ , syoya!” he cuts off with a yelp as syoya slips still freezing hands under the back of his shirt, insistent on tickling his sides until shion finally swats him away with a handful of dumpling packs.

“keep making fun of my height and you’ll be watching anime on the floor, _tsurubo-kun_.”

it’s an empty threat and they _both_ know it. that doesn’t mean shion won’t take the chance to tease, though. “whose shoulder will you fall asleep on then, _kimata-san_?”

“...that only happened a few times, asshole,” syoya smacks him with the end of his – technically shion’s – sleeve and picks up the basket. the correction of _you mean thirteen times?_ is at the tip of his tongue, but it’s not the time nor place to expose himself for counting (and treasuring) every instance it happened, nor consider the implications it has, so he swallows the words and follows syoya towards the till. they make small talk with the old man, mostly about shion’s recent trip to kansai. he and his wife are from hyogo, too, and it’s nice to slip back into their local dialect while packing up their groceries and poking fun at syoya’s confused looks.

by the time they’re back at the bike stand, the sun as long since set and the conversation has drifted towards what to actually watch tonight. they binged anohana last time and showed up to practice with eyes swollen from crying the following day, so this time syoya wants something easier on the heart and tear glands.

“you still haven’t watched tokyo ghoul,” shion reminds, putting a grocery bag (reusable, owing to sho) into the bike’s basket, “it’s more of an action thriller.”

that’s a lie. whilst it’s definitely a supernatural horror thriller kind of deal, shion got so into the series that he caught up on the manga _and_ its sequel. he felt hollow for days after finishing. it’s _gut-wrenching_. but syoya doesn’t need to know.

“but you’ve already finished it,” he rolls up the hoodie’s sleeves, bike leaning against his hip, “wouldn’t you get bored rewatching it this soon?”

“...it’d be fun if it’s with you,” shion sheepishly admits. sure, he wants to laugh at syoya going through several stages of emotional distress when the weight of certain plot points hits him, but really, he just… likes spending time with syoya. they’ve always clicked, and their tendency to say whatever dumb things come to mind and _roll_ with it makes watching even the most bland series leave him with cheeks sore from laughing.

“you’re so,” syoya pauses, trailing off like he’s trying to find the right word, and he has a weird expression that seems all too familiar. shion realises that it’s the same lovesick way he sometimes notices himself looking at syoya, be it in the reflection of their practice room’s mirrors, or when monitoring footage from schedules, and it makes his hands go clammy around the bike handles. a dazed silence falls between them, something he’d usually blame on the heat, except he shivers at the next gust of evening wind.

syoya snaps out of it first with a shake of his head, then hops on his bike and calls out over his shoulder, “last one back home does the chores this week!” right before he speeds off.

“what the- _kimata!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> shosei exposing tsurukima's bike dates got the entire community revving, because me and a dear twitter friend [unknowingly both wrote something about it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26316247), and it really just be like that sometimes
> 
> title from loona's [hi high](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=846cjX0ZTrk), she aged like fine wine
> 
> i can neither confirm nor deny if they actually watched anohana but shion's definitely watched tokyo ghoul, and _i've_ watched/read tokyo ghoul, therefore feel entitled to project my feelings about the series on him because god DAMN it, hide deserved better
> 
> oh, and shion loses the race. on purpose. it's all totally planned.


End file.
